Peace   has
       always
  eluded me;
      waiting
 Sisyphus-like
for my rock of rage
  to come tumbling
           down
     leaving me
       flat and full
           of
     self-hatred.
Longing for someone
   any one really
        to show
        tiny  me
    that I matter.
    No one here
      caring to
        care.
      Desperate
   to understand
       my life
 I found the
     answer
not in family
but in fairy tale,
 taking comfort
      in story.
      My life
   understood
through fairy tale.
I was the little match
     girl in the story
waiting in the dark,
her hands numb
     with cold
      waiting
always waiting
to be rescued
and brought in
to the warmth,
she stands outside
         alone,
shivering in her
       darkness.
K.A.L
Advertisements